


The Shop Brat Life- Bad Brake

by Princesszellie



Series: The Shop Brat Life [7]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Carshop! Au, Gen, Mechanic! AU, Pacific Rim - Freeform, Teen! Chuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:55:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1642700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princesszellie/pseuds/Princesszellie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck has a life changing experience OR- Cars are always good for reminding us of our mortality...<br/> </p>
<p>Part 7/? of the Shop Brat Life series of one shots based on my life as the boss's kid at a large car dealership.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shop Brat Life- Bad Brake

It was a perfect afternoon, the sun was shining, it was warm enough to roll all the windows down and crank the radio up, and it was just perfect for drifting. Chuck grinned and turned the radio up another couple numbers. Max gave him a baleful look and shoved his head out the passenger window to escape the noise. The road was still just slightly damp from an afternoon rain shower so the drifting would be prime.  
  
He gunned Striker down the first hill ignoring the stop sign looming at the bottom. It was a back country road, no one ever stopped. When he hit the bottom he tapped the breaks just enough to slide through the intersection. Striker didn’t respond quite like normal…that was weird. He shrugged it off and sped up again to take the S curve ahead in a perfect sideways sweep.

“Killer girl!” Chuck shouted in glee as Striker practically spun on her center axis in a complete circle around the second opposite direction curve. Max barked in happy agreement enjoying the rush of air on his wrinkles. Sickness. He tapped the brakes again to slow her down on the slight straightaway and…something was wrong….they were soft….she wasn’t slowing down right, or at all.

A sick feeling was settling in his stomach as their momentum carried them up the next hill. He was scared to brake again, he just had the impression it was only going to get worse. Striker had rocketed up to over 60 mph at the crest of the hill and now they were heading down and regardless of whether he was going to just survive the sharp curve at the bottom he would need to slow down, let alone wrap Striker around it.  
  
Chuck pressed down on the brake pedal…and kept pressing and pressing and shit…oh god shit! There was nothing. Nothing! The pedal was pressed to the floor and Striker was now up to 65 mph and gaining.

They were almost to the bottom where the curve, the one Dad had always told him was super dangerous, began its sharp right ward bend. It seemed to come up so much faster this trip, or maybe it was because Striker had them at over 70 mph.

“Striker! What are you doing!?” Chuck demanded, “What are you doing!?” Get them killed is what she was going to do. God damn it. He was too young to die. Not like this…no. He was a drift pro, this would not be their end.  
  
With ice water in his veins Chuck let Striker carry them into the curve at top speed and just let his instincts kick in. He had done this a hundred times for fun, now he would do it to live. At the tightest part of the curve he cranked the steering wheel in the opposite direction of the very very steep drop off and slammed what was left of the brake pressure while down shifting her into first. It just happened unconsciously and Striker responded just like she all ways did; just with a little more squealing of rubber and a louder protest from the engine. But there was no time to savor the sickest drift he had ever produced.  
  
They were out! The worst was past….at least until the crested the next much smaller hill. It felt like the car would never stop, but thank god for that long straight stretch on the other side. Striker coasted to a nice easy stop and Chuck pulled her off onto the gravel and slammed her into park and killed the engine.

The silence was deafening. His heart was roaring. He started to shake violently. There was blood in his mouth? The panic he had not allowed himself to feel during the event was setting in and he felt like he might be sick.  
  
He grabbed his phone and with trembling hands tried to dial his dad. It took three tries.

Herc was standing looking over a half disassembled engine block when his phone rang and he fumbled it out of his pocket and answered without looking. He visibly flinched earning a concerned look from Raleigh.

“Slow down Charlie, I can’t understand you.” He listened to the totally incoherent stream of babble coming in at a high pitch from his son. Herc had no idea what was going on but he could tell the boy was scared. “Take a deep breath,” He stepped away from Raleigh’s questioning looks.

It took a whole two minutes before Chuck calmed down enough to make sense. “It sounds like your brakes just failed,” Silence from the other end. Wow the lack of a sarcastic comment was very telling about Charlie’s frame of mind. “Is there a trail of fluids behind you?”  
  
Chuck looked in the rearview mirror, “Y-yeah…”

“Then you blew one or both of your brake lines. Are you somewhere safe?” An affirmative answer and a location. “Okay, hang tight kiddo. I’ll be right there.”  
  
Chuck hung up the phone and sat staring straight ahead. Suddenly he couldn’t be in the car any more…he was going to be sick. He lunged out of Striker and slammed the door behind him to keep Max, who was trying to console him, inside. Like a flood his emotions finally truly let go. He was hot and cold at the same time; he began to scream at Striker nonsensically and sobbed. God he sobbed like…well like he had just escaped death.

He kicked the front tire viciously and cursed and screamed until he suddenly had no strength left in his body and sank down onto the hot pavement of the road. It was truly the middle of nowhere, and once his broken sobbing stopped there was no sound but the rustling of the corn in the fields that surrounded him on all sides. He leaned back against Strikers fender and stared up at the overly blue sky as tears still poured down his face. He couldn’t stop the shaking from the adrenaline rush.  
  
It felt like an eternity before he heard the sounds of another car engine. He looked up from where his head rested on his knees and saw the familiar form of one of their cars followed by a tow truck shimmering in the near summer heat. He stood up and waited impatiently for them to reach him.

Herc barely came to a stop before he leaped out of his car and Charlie threw himself into his arms. Seeing Dad made all the ugly emotions come back and without his conscious consent Chuck began to sob wildly again. Herc held him tight and stroked his hair gently waiting for it to subside.  
  
He tipped Charlie’s chin up, “It’s okay baby…your fine. Everything’s fine. Striker’s old…sometimes these things happen.”  
  
Chuck sniffled and stared up at him. “We’ll get her all fixed up. It’s okay.” Herc brushed a tear off his son’s cheek with his thumb. He didn’t look like the cocky and brash 16 year old he was, he had really scared himself good this time. “Where were you going?”

“Mako’s….we were gonna study.” Charlie hated how his voice cracked but he couldn’t help it. Damn it all.

“Okay well…You just take Lucky and go study. I’ll ride with the tow back to the shop.” Herc brushed away another tear.  
  
Oh. A chance to drive Lucky Seven. Well that wasn’t all bad….wait…“But…but Max isn’t allowed in Lucky…” he stammered.

Herc smiled, “I think we can make an exception this one time. Don’t tell mom.” There. Charlie’s little smile meant he was recovering. He gently helped Chuck gather up his books and his dog and shuttled them into Lucky.

Chuck started the car then stared up at his father. Herc could see the fear was still very real in his green eyes. “You will be fine Charlie. Lucky is all up to date and a decade newer.” The needling had the desired result.  
  
Charlie snorted and glared at Striker. “Promise me you won’t let that Raleigh touch her. I want Yancy to fix it.” He looked back up at his now smirking dad, “Promise.”

“I promise!” Herc laughed, “Yancy or I’ll do it myself! Hand to god Chuck.” That seemed to placate him. “Now get out of here. And for Christ’s sake Charlie be careful.”  
  
Chuck nodded and his father stood watching him until Lucky disappeared beyond a hill out of view. Only then did Herc allow himself to feel his own fear.  
  
“Shit,” the driver to the tow said looking back over the road Chuck had lost control on. There was a long, very telling trail of brake fluid and rubber burns on the pavement, giving clear testament to just how very close the boy had come to serious harm. “He’s either very lucky or very skilled.” He winched Striker up onto the flat bed.  


“He’s both.” Herc whispered to himself, “Oh Charlie.” He ignored the tightness in his chest as he inspected under Striker and found a totally parted brake line dangling from the front axle. He already realized they would have to sugar coat this for Angela- he had no idea how but they just would have too. He had enough tears from Charlie, and he didn’t bother considering his own from the drive over, there was no way he could handle hers too.

 

It took Charlie a couple weeks to get his courage back. He was totally aware that the _whole_ braking system from pads, rotors, calipers and of course the lines, front and back had been replaced at his father’s insistence (and expense); but there was still a huge void in his trust in Striker. At first it just seemed like a horrible betrayal, but after some thought and a conversation with Uncle Scott he realized it was just an accident and Striker had done her best to keep him safe. It took some time but she earned her favor back, like she always did. He loved his ‘screaming metal deathtrap’ too much not to forgive her. Besides, his brush with death and boss drifting skills just earned him some serious street cred with his friends and at the dealership.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So yeah. Having a total brake failure is one of the most terrifying experiences you can have. Period. I have had the honor of having it happen to me TWICE in two different cars. It was dangerous both times but the really bad one was the one used in this story. I still have nightmares about how Serenity wouldn't stop as we approached a tight curve with a 20 foot straight drop embankment. I literally thought i was going to die on that middle of nowhere east jesus back road. My father always jokes that the only time i call him on the phone is when I'm hysterical over some shit my car did or some shit my hockey team did. It's pretty much true. the real kick in the pants about this whole thing was the 'brake failure light' didn't come on BEFORE we had a problem but not until they had failed entirely and we had almost gone off the cliff and then were finally at a dead stop. It was just like a final slap in the face. When that little red warning light came on i totally lost my shit. It was ugly. At least the second time it happened i knew what was happening and had a plan....still was scary but a little less so. My advice..always have your brakes checked at LEAST once a year. Take my word for it, you do not want this!


End file.
